Thanksgiving Day
by Brown Eyes Parker
Summary: Jane and Lisbon spend Thanskgiving day together. Full summery inside.


Thanksgiving Day

A Jane & Lisbon Story

By Hermione Potter1990

**Summery:**

**Lisbon and Jane spend Thanksgiving Day together. . . just the two of them without any crime or cases in the way. And towards the end of the day, things between the pair are different. **

**A/N:  
This is my first "Mentalist" story, so please be understanding if you don't think it's going smoothly. This is also the first time I've really watched the show. . . so, I'm still getting a feel for the characters (and their stories, so to speak). Still. . . tear it to pieces if you like, because I appreciate creative criticism and/or helpful opinions. It helps me as a writer. . . just don't flame me to flame me, 'cause that really takes the fun out of writing for me. Okay, I'm done. . . so enjoy.**

**Holly_**

**P.S**

**This is, like, rough draft #2 of my story. My rougher version is in one of my notebooks, and I will never let anybody read it (except for maybe my sister.)**

*** * * ***

I could lose my heart tonight  
if you don't turn and walk away 'Cause the way I feel, I may lose control and let you stay 'Cause I could take you in my arms and never let go

_Selena__

Her apartment smelled of perfume, turkey, and green bean casserole. He recognized the scents before she even let him in. He didn't even have to knock, she opened the door and let him in before he had a chance to raise his hand to the door.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw her standing in the threshold. She was dressed in a cranberry-colored wrap dress, a gold chain rested delicately on her collar-bone, and her hair was in a loose bun. She wasn't wearing any shoes or nylons.

He cleared his throat nervously, handed her a bottle of white wine, and leaned into kiss her cheek. "Happy Thanksgiving, Lisbon."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Jane," she replied, smiling at him as she closed the door. "I'm glad you could come and have dinner with me today.

He tapped his fingers on the counter. "Well, I decided that I didn't really want spend the day alone."

She nodded and put the bottle of wine in the refrigerator. "Well, I can't think of anybody I know who wants to spend the holidays alone."

"I almost didn't come though." He smiled. "But you would have come to me, Thanksgiving dinner and all, if I hadn't shown up."

"Soda?" She turned around, a challenge in her dark brown eyes.

"Diet Coke, thank you."

She got two glasses out of her cupboard and filled them with ice. "So, Jane. . . what makes you think that I would have gone to you today? I mean, if you hadn't shown up?"

"Because of the way you pushed me to say yes these past two weeks. You didn't want to spend Thanksgiving alone, just as much as I did."

"You're too smart," she said, pushing his drink towards him.

"Isn't that the reason you keep me around Lisbon?" He took a tentative sip of his diet Coke. "Because, otherwise I get on your nerves. I know that I do."

On impulse, she reached out and gently covered his hand with her own. "You don't get on my nerves Patrick. . . not really."

"But the only reason that you keep around is to close cases, admit it."

"Well. . . yes," she answered, praying that he didn't notice she had hesitated. Praying that her cheeks weren't reddening.

He had a condescending smile grin on his face, it was the look that he got when he knew something that she didn't. "Lisbon—"

"Do you want something to drink? She asked.

"I already have my drink." He held up his glass of diet Coke.

"Oh! Right!"

"Is this the first time you've ever had a man over for Thanksgiving dinner?"

"_Jane_!" she snapped, turning on her heel and going to her bedroom.

"I was only kidding!" He called out after her. "Come back! I won't say anything like that again!"

She realized that she wasn't acting like an adult, so she came back. Still not looking at him, she handed him a can of cranberry sauce. "Open this please."

He nodded. "Where's your can opener?"

"Third drawer near the fridge." She looked at him. "And _no_, this isn't the first time I've had a man over before—"

"Don't worry about it! I was just trying to get under your skin."

"And you know how to do that well," she muttered.

"What?"

She smirked. "I was just talking to myself."

"Oh." He nodded. "Well, we all do that sometimes, I guess."

She nodded too. "Yes. . . I guess we do."

"Some more then others—"

"I, for one rarely talk to myself!" She protested.

"I wasn't talking about _you_!" He protested.

"Well, who were you talking about then?" She asked, pulling the can of cranberry sauce out of his hands.

"Bosco," he answered, before he thought about what he was saying.

"Patrick, you are _so_ immature!"

He smiled. "But you like my Peter Pan complex. Admit it."

"Immature and full of himself, look how far we've evolved." She looked at him and saw that he was smiling again. "And why are you smiling at me like that?"

"Like what?" He asked, his grin never faltering.

"Like you know something that I don't know."

"Maybe because I _do_."

She sighed and dropped the can of cranberries on her counter. "This was such a bad idea."

"Having me over for dinner?"

"Basically."

"I'll leave." He stood up. "Thanks anyways."

"Wait a minute!" She grabbed him by the arm. "Don't go! I really don't want to be alone."

"I lied. . . I don't want to be alone either," he whispered, pulling her into a hug.

She stiffened against him. "Patrick. . . the cranberries, please?"

"Of course, _Teresa_." He smiled at her again and had the can open in seconds. "Now what?"

She got a crystal serving bowl and set it down in front of him. "It's whole cranberry sauce, so just dump it in."

He did as she requested, smiling at her as he did. She returned his smile shyly, and turned to check the turkey.

"Teresa. . ."

She turned to look at him. "Yes, Patrick?"

"Would you. . ." but the question died on his lips. She was probably still mourning Bosco's death. "Do you want help with the turkey? Is it done yet?"

"Just a couple more minutes," she answered, taking some juice with her turkey baster. "Do you like turkey?"

"Silly question," he chided.

"Come on, do you?"

"Yes." He laughed. "I love gravy."

"Well, Mr. Jane. . . get ready for some of the best gravy that you've ever tasted." She reached for a packet of Gravy Master.

"Could I make it?" He asked suddenly. "My wife has. . . had a recipe—"

She smiled. "Go ahead."

"You don't care?"

"No, I need a break anyways." She sat down in his chair and put her feet up on the counter. And she tried not to think about how sexy he looked helping her out with dinner.

* * * *

"Wow! You made enough food to feed a small army!" He said as they finished setting the table.

"Go grab that bottle of wine that you brought," she replied. "I think I put it in the fridge."

He nodded. "Okay."

"I'm going to put some dinner music on. Do you have anything particular that you'd like to listen to?"

"No. . . do _you_?"

"Just get the wine, I'll take care of the music."

"Okay fine," he agreed. "I'll do the wine and you'll do the dinner music."

She dropped a CD into her player without even looking at it, and _I Could Fall in Love_ filled the air. "Oh brother—"

"Nice!" he called out. "Don't change it! I kind of like it."

She sat down and sighed, drumming her fingers on the edge of her plate. He arrived again, carrying two glasses filled with wine.

"Thank you," she said, taking the glass he held out to her and clinking it against his. "Cheers."

"Cheers!" He raised his glass to her.

"Are you hungry?" She asked, after taking a small sip.

"Starved."

"Good. . . because I made enough food for a small army—"

And that's when he threw caution to the wind, and kissed her. Before she knew what she was doing, she was kissing him back.

"Teresa. . ." he pulled away, his cheeks coloring. "Lisbon, I'm sorry."

"No!" She held her hand up to stop him. "Let's just eat, Jane."

He nodded. "Okay. . . I really am sorry."

She wanted to say, _don't be_ and kiss him again. but she shrugged instead. "Yeah, I am too."

* * * *

"Well. . . thank you for dinner," he said later that night. "I had a really nice time today."

She swallowed. "Me too."

"Well. . . good night."

"Goodnight, _Patrick_."

He smiled at her and leaned into kiss her cheek, but she turned her head and he caught her lips instead.

"Sorry—" He started.

"Don't be! I turned on purpose."

"Really?" He asked, feeling a mixture of hope and worry.

"Really. Now, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." He agreed.

I can only wonder how touching you would make me feel

_But if I take that chance right now, tomorrow will you want me still?_

_So, I should keep this to myself and never let you know_

I could fall in love with you 


End file.
